Mind: The Gap
by Squibakou
Summary: Aboard Hogwarts Express, life can be very interesting: especially with ghosts, mind altering plants, quacking sweets, secret missions, twinkling blue eyes behind half moon glasses and a whole assortment of strange goings on. Chapter 8 is up and betaed!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Ramblings: **The title originated from a sign I saw at the train station that said 'Mind the gap.' My version has a double-pronged meaning, if you can see it. (Oh for God's sake, looked at the use of the semi-colon.) Enjoy, my friends!

**Disclaimer:** At this moment, I own nothing to do with Harry Potter. This will change after I persuade J.K. Rowling to leave it to me in her will. My means of persuasion involve a very large, thick, heavy, and entirely non-magical wand, and a sample of her handwriting.

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**Mind; The Gap.**

**Chapter One.**

The Hogwarts Express coasted along the track, silent, but for the chuff chuff of wheels, and the occasional squeak of brakes. There were fleeting flashes of the countryside that surrounded the moving train; undergrowth, hawthorn and the wild rose bushes that produce the weather worn roses, which outgrew even the most well tendered garden flowers. Moreover, the bent and twisted trees frequently flew by, their knobbly branches tapping against the windows of the train in an irregular chant. Grass and fields and hills and mountains in the distance, all these and more could be seen from the glass panes that ran along the train's length. But, though those inside could see the vastness of the ever-changing countryside, if you were to look inside, you would see the vastness of their ever-changing lives. When you look inside, and begin to observe the people aboard, don't forget, to mind the gap.

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"Have you seen a toad around here? Neville's lost it again," asked a bushy-haired girl, standing in the doorway of a compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

"Again?" Harry laughed, "Every year, it's like a tradition!"

"Yes, well, as head girl, I have an obligation to help him find it. Every year. It is a tradition I'd rather do without. So have you seen him? I have other duties you know."

Ron looked up, mouth full of chocolate frog, one leg poking out the corner of his mouth, twitching slightly. He shrugged his shoulders in answer to Hermione's question, at the same time slurping the exposed leg into his mouth.

Hermione looked at him disapprovingly, "That's disgusting _and _unhelpful. And shouldn't you be doing your rounds, as I recall, you _are_ a prefect."

Ron chewed frantically, swallowed too fast and choked, coughing for a good minute before he emerged, red-faced and breathless.

"Um, I finished my duties. Well, almost. But I thought I'd stop in and visit Harry, seeing he's alone and all," he said.

"Mm Hmm, and I'm sure chocolate frogs had nothing to do with it." Hermione said sceptically.

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"What's that then?" asked Ginny Weasley, sitting down next to Neville.

"It's a Fa-lovru Seduceious, very rare. I don't even know what it does."

Ginny looked down at the plant on his lap. It was the most beautiful flower she'd ever seen. Red and gold-flecked petals of silken peach surrounded a lavender centre. Curly green tendrils sprouted from the middle, bursting forth in random bouts, flowing over the petalled edges, and dangling over the flowerpot rim. Leaves, hundreds of tiny delicate miniatures, ranging the expanse of the green-coloured spectrum, exploded from underneath the plant, cupping it in a soft nest.

Neville held the bloom like it were the most precious thing in the world, cradling it in his lap.

Ginny stared open-mouthed at its beauty. "Whu-where'd you get it?" she asked.

Neville turned to her, excitedly.

"That's just it! I have no idea where it came from. Someone, my great second cousin, or whatever, sent me it for my birthday. It just came in the post; there was no return address or anything!"

Ginny was barely listening, it was all she could do not to stare at the magnificent floral, sitting on his lap. She bent over in a trance, as he spoke. Eyes fluttering shut, she breathed in the plant's scent, letting it waft around her in a glorious honey-flavoured cloud.

With a snap she straightened, shaking her head ruefully, clearing her thoughts.

"You okay?" Neville asked, worried.

She nodded and looked up at him, "Yeah, I'm fi-"

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Draco Malfoy glanced up as someone walked past the compartment door. It was only Granger and Weaselby, the boy muttering darkly about quitting being a prefect if it meant he had to spend less time with his friends.

Draco followed them with his eyes as they passed, listening to the snippets of conversation. He almost laughed, that mud-blood was telling Weasley off again for being disrespectful towards his duties; honestly, all they ever did was argue. You'd think something was going on between the two.

When they rounded the corner, throwing opinions and insults at each other all the way down the hallway, Draco resumed his stance.

Calmly folding his arms, eyebrows raised, sneer situated in its usual place, he observed the two boys in front of him.

"Well?" Draco asked.

"Oh…um…er…."

"Out with it man!"

"I – I dunno where ta' start, um."

Draco sighed; this was the problem with Slytherins. They were either all brain and sneak, or all muscle and infuriating stupidity. It was either, or. No middle way.

"Um…er…oo…"

None at all.

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"Who's to say Brynortheol's theorem isn't correct? In an infinite universe, where time and matter are one and the same, and sounds mean nothing if not heard by the eyes-"

"- and the further you are, the less time it takes to change a light bulb-"

"- and that green matter is an unnatural fluxuation in the fourth and three quarters stratosphere; then who are you to say that trans-dimensional jeopardy loftiness in a nautical objective to the theory that all magical greenhouse effects were caused by the kink in the proverbial space tail-trail, in accordance with Brynortheol's second theorem of hypersensitivity, is wrong?"

Professor McGonagall frowned at Professor Flitwick and Madame Hooch.

"But it has no relevance to _today's _society, in which Hooliane's seventh subdivision of particle alignment of the para-quadrant variety, is more appropriate. _Obviously."_

Madame Hooch scowled, eyebrows knitting together.

"Don't you mean Hooliane's sixth partition of atomic positioning on a molecular level? Para-quadratics is invariably continuous in a spliced movement, which totally eradicates the Krominaff conjecture that maroon plus five-point miles to the south by 50 percent equals 4 o'clock. You just don't seem to be catching on here, Minerva."

Professor Flitwick nodded sagely, "If you want, we can discuss something simpler like-"

"They've gone now, we can stop."

Professor Flitwick sighed, relieved.

"Those boys think they can spy on us, do they?! We sure fooled 'em, didn't we stubby!" said Madame Hooch, nudging the smaller man.

Minerva McGonagall smiled thinly. She adjusted he hat in a prim manner, replacing loose pins so that the bun at the back of her head was as sturdy as ever.

"Was it just me, or did no-one have any idea what they were talking about?"

"Not a clue! Although I do say, that speech about para-quadwhatsit was really good! I'm impressed, you sure you just came up with it on the spot?" asked Hooch, grinning.

"Just popped out my mouth, I'm sure. But what was the meaning of that last comment, how dare you suggest I wouldn't under such things as puce molecular bi-polar versions of jumping llama chronometers?"

They all laughed; little did the children know what _really_ went on behind the desk.

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-ine," said Ginny.

She looked at Neville. He looked back.

"You okay? You look a bit um, funny…"

Ginny leaned closer, her eyes glazing over, mouth hanging slightly open in a gormless fashion.

Neville backed up slightly against the wall, pretending he wasn't trying to get away.

"G-Ginny? You're acting awful strange-"

Ginny advanced. And two boys watched from outside the compartment door. Watched, and listened.

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**A/N: **Well, that's chappie 1! Done! Suspense all over the place! Sorry! Bye!

**P.S. **Chapter two is in progress, so I'm posting this while I do it. Expect it some time soon (ish).

This is Squibakou signing out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's ramblings: **Okays, my entire story after chapter one was deleted from my computer. I tried everything, even a programme that retrieves deleted files, but to no avail. Soooooo I'm re-writing everything. Bleh. Expect fairly long waits between chappies, as I must write them all again, and I can't remember half of what happened! Ah well. Enjoy!

**A/R mark 2: **I have re-designed the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw ghosts, as I can't remember their names, or even if J.K. mentioned them, just so you know.

**Disclaimer: **I'm saying nothing 'til my lawyer gets here.

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**Mind: The Gap.**

**Chapter Two.**

Draco Malfoy was never one for patience.

"You. Will tell me. Something. Now. Or I. Will get. ANNOYED."

"Ah, see it's like this…."

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The compartment door slid open to reveal a figure commonly know as Albus Dumbledore, complete with half-moon spectacles, twinkling eyes and beard.

"Albus! So nice of you to join us, come in, come in! Take a seat next to Minerva here."

"If I may intrude…" said the headmaster, swooping in and sitting down with a creak next to Professor McGonagall. He twinkled his eyes at them, "you weren't talking about me, were you? Only I heard something about jumping llamas? I happen to know quite a bit about jumping llamas."

Madame Hooch just guffawed and flicked her hand holding her wand - an empty plate appeared, she frowned at it. "I was never any good at this sort of thing," she muttered, turning to the short man beside her.

Professor Flitwick happily obliged, with a wave of his wand a pile of assorted cakes and biscuits appeared on the plate, along with a small mound of our headmaster's favourite sweets. The old man's eyes lit up at the sight of such delicious morsels, and he was the first to select something from the abundant delights.

"Soooooo, not to question your impeccable logic and wisdom, but why is it the entire staff are on the train with the students?" asked Professor Flitwick curiously.

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"Are you sure this was a good idea?"

"Everybody was doing it! I for one wanted to see what it'd be like outside of that infernal castle for once!"

The Bloody Baron rounded on the two ghosts, an ever-present frown adorning his pale, slightly transparent features. "And if someone were to jump of a cliff would you do it too?"

"Well yes, how did you think I died?"

The Slytherin ghost sighed, "I would have expected as much from someone like you."

The Hufflepuff ghost stiffened, "And what's _that _supposed to mean?!" he said indignantly.

Nearly Headless Nick decided now was the time to intervene. He quietly but firmly drew the poor insulted ghost to the side and whispered soothing encouragement into her ear until she calmed down to a reasonable level.

Ravenclaw's ghostly representative was sitting nervously in the corner of the carriage, twiddling his thin bony fingers as he observed his fellow spirits. Having asked the question in the first place, he was mulling over the feeling of being free from Hogwarts in what was over a century. Granted, they were four stowaway ghosts sitting in a cramped baggage cart, but hey, beggars can't be choosers.

"Lord Sylvester?" The Ravenclaw ghost jumped, startled from his reverie. "Sorry dear, didn't mean to scare you. I just…. I apologise for dragging you out here, but seeing you mope about the castle like a wet rag was so disheartening. I just wanted to have some fun is all, and I'm sure the headmaster wouldn't mind so much. Ha! It's not as if we can get hurt or anything, bit late for that, don't you think?"

The Ravenclaw ghost looked up at Duchess Darla, the Hufflepuff ghost. He gave a slight nod, and Daring Darla, as she was jokingly called, used to his ways as she was, took this as an 'OK'.

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Neville was confused and not a little frightened as Ginny continued to silently crawl towards him. She reminded him of a predatory cat, stalking her prey, silent but deadly. He could practically see a swishing tail and sharp fangs, waiting to rip him apart. Her hair seemed wilder than before, reminding him of a fiery red mane, and it framed a face that looked more angular than he was used to. Her eyes were glazed over, but each focused very much on him, sizing him up.

He shuffled backwards on the cushioned bench, no longer pretending he wasn't trying to escape. Ginny paused, head cocked slightly to the side, waiting.

She didn't have to wait long, Neville's back hit the wall of their small compartment, and at that point he was acutely aware that Ginerva Weasley blocked his only means of escape, and there was in fact nothing he could do about it.

"G-Ginny? Snap out of it-"

She placed one hand in front of the other, lazily, and at the same time shifting her weight to slide one leg forward slightly. She kept her eyes trained on Neville, repeating her movements, getting closer and closer.

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"Grab him Ron! Quickly!"

Ron swooped down to the floor, stretching out his arms in a fruitless attempt to capture a particularly wily toad. Trevor hopped away, out of his reach, and then under a bench.

"Bloody hell!" Ron swore, scrambling up. This was not what he'd pictured doing when he became a prefect.

"Trevor! Get your warty butt out here right now!"

Hermione looked at with one eyebrow raised, "He can't understand you, Ron." She sighed and crouched down next to where Trevor had disappeared. Ron sat down with a huff, feeling that right then he _really _wanted to shout at a first year for playing with a fanged boomerang. Or something.

Hermione was making calm, encouraging noises at the toad, like little clicks, which Ron found quite endearing. The toad didn't share his sentiment however, and stayed stubbornly sheltered under the compartment bench, glaring at them all the while.

After a while Hermione seemingly had enough and suddenly darted her hand out to grab the offending creature.

Ron jumped a little at the quick movement, he looked at her. "D'you get it?"

She turned and grinned at him, Trevor the toad gripped in her hands, not to tightly but definitely firmly enough so as he had little chance of escape.

Ron smiled back, "Finally, that's over with, I see why you're so tired of this particular chore."

Hermione sighed, "At least this time I had _some _help, even if I was the one who ended up catching him after all. Come on; let's give this little guy back to his rightful owner.

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"Yes," joined Minerva McGonagall, "I've been wondering about that too, Albus. Will the school be safe without us to protect it?"

Professor Dumbledore chuckled into his beard, "don't worry, I doubt we'll be attacked in the few hours we are away, and I have left _some _members of staff behind."

_At Hogwarts castle._

_"Lada DUM dada DUM dada, DUUM dada da dada DUM…" Argus Filch danced the empty corridors of the castle, his worn shoes making soft scuffing sounds on the stone floor._

_He waltzed with an invisible partner, arms out, rising and falling smoothly as he twirled and sidestepped and flicked his heels gracefully. "…dada DUM daa…" He spun round the corners, humming and occasionally breaking in to song, enjoying the feeling of once-time solitude._

_"__Dada dum DUM dada da deee…" He turned a corner, twirling slowly but gracefully on one foot, only to stop when he hears a slight sound. "My puss! Where have you been? I was worried, my sweet." He scoops her up, and shushes her when she mews in surprise._

_"__Don't worry, dearest. Do you wish to dance with me?" Her only response was a small confused meow, but Filch took this as an affirmative and began his waltz again. Through the many corridors he danced, a loyal companion in his arms and a song in his heart._

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**Author's Ramblings…again: **A bit short, I know, but the next chapter will be longer, and hopefully I'll get some actual plot in there! If you liked it, review, or even alert it, I'm comforted when I know people are actually reading this stuff. Love ya's!

This is Squibakou signing out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Ramblings: **I have been informed that the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw ghosts are called the Fat Friar and the Grey Lady. But I've decided not to bother changing them because I want to use my ghosts as part of the plot. So there.

**Disclaimer: **Flobberwarble ding-bat on a stick. My lawyer never came, so I will continue to say nothing of sense until he gets here.

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**Mind: The Gap.**

**Chapter Three.**

"Ginn-"

Neville made one final bid for freedom, lunging past the ever-advancing Ginny towards the door. She'd anticipated this; it seemed, because before Neville could move more than a cauldron's width to the door she pounced, throwing him back hard against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped in pain, spots of light dancing in front of his eyes. Blinking, he tried to clear his vision- to get away, but before he could take any action, she plunged her head forward, silencing him.

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"You left _Argus Filch?! _To guard the entire castle?! Sir, please, tell me you left someone else- anyone- to look after the most powerful and respected building in the whole world?" squeaked Minerva.

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop in his mouth and sucked, wincing slightly at the underlying bitter tang of lemon. "I believed it was more important for us to be here, besides, I think that the school's janitor will care for the castle for the few hours we are away. It is best that we are _here,_" he emphesised.

"But- but _why? _And why _Filch? _I mean really sir, if Voldemort were to attack Hogwarts he could just waltz right in and take over! Then where would we be?"

"I'm sure that won't happen, dear, now calm down. Even if he did attack, there's no way of knowing, and no way to get there faster than the mode of transport we are on now."

"But that's exactly it!" interrupted Madame Hooch, "_why _are we on this train? Every other year we've been at the castle a few days before the students arrive, what's so different about this year?"

The Headmaster coughed into his beard, "I feel it is not my place to tell you about it at this moment in time, suffice it to say, this train journey could get a little interesting I'll warrant. So be on your toes."

And the teachers of Hogwarts could not get another word out of him.

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Harry sat alone in the compartment, reading a book Ron had lent him called 'Chudley Canons: can they make it?' After reading it for about half an hour, he highly doubted it. Their main tactics seemed to comprise of following the other team's players until they dropped the quaffle, or just flying round in circles until something happened. It wasn't very inspiring. He wondered why Ron supported them.

Sighing discontentedly, Harry put the book down and reached into his bag to grab some leftover chocolate frogs that were lurking at the bottom. Shoving off the wrapper of one, he grabbed at the living chocolate and went to put it in his mouth, but paused as he heard a sound out side his door.

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"Hey Neville! Guess what? We found your toa-"

Ron choked on his words, stopping suddenly in the doorway, leaving Hermione to bump into his back.

"What? Ron?"

Ginny whipped her head round, eyes piercing, glaring at the intruders. Ron stared back at her and Neville's compromising position, mouth agape. Hermione shoved her way through, trying to see past the immobile redhead.

She dropped the toad she still had grasped in her fist, Trevor, finally free, hopped off to safety.

"Ron! Hermione! It's not what it looks like, she just jumped me!"

But Neville's pleas went unheard as Ron launched himself at the pair of them. "Get off my sister!" he yelled, regardless of the fact that Ginny was on top of Neville. He tried to drag Ginny away, but to his surprise she was having none of it. She scratched out at him, screaming senselessly, baring her teeth in a feral growl.

Ron backed away, hands held up in a sign of peace. Hermione stepped forward.

"Ginny? What's wrong?"

Ginny shed away, suddenly afraid, like a cat that had found itself in an unfamiliar place, tucking her hands to her chest. She made no sound, but when Neville tried to get up, she whipped round and shoved him down with a hiss of disapproval.

Hermione crept forward, making little clucking sounds like she'd done when her and Ron were trying to retrieve Trevor the toad.

"Ginny honey, what's up? Is something wrong, did something happen?" she crooned, turning to Neville carefully, she asked in a quiet voice, "what happened to her?"

Neville seemed incapable of speech, but was coherent enough to hold up the Fa-lovru Seduceious and Hermione, knowledgeable as always, understood what he meant.

"Did that plant do this to you?" she enquired to Ginny who was staring at them suspiciously, her eyes wide.

Ginny didn't answer however, and only turned slightly to clutch at Neville who was sitting up slowly against the wall. He patted her head awkwardly, and Ron glared at him as if he were taking advantage of her.

"Sh-she was fine until I showed her my flower, then…then she went all funny and-" He shuddered.

Hermione and Ron looked incredulously at the red haired girl who was padding at Neville's shirt, adoration, and to Ron's annoyance, lust in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

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"Harry? You all alone in here?" said one of the Weasley twins- he couldn't tell which- as he popped his head round the door.

He grinned, "yep, join me?" he asked hopefully.

George - or was it Fred - widened the door's opening and stepped in, closely followed by Fred – or was it George? Harry shuffled over, and swiped some chocolate frog wrappers onto the floor to make room for them and they sat down.

"So-"

"Where's our little brother-"

"And the bookworm?"

Harry smiled, "I wish I could do that."

The twins looked at each other, an identical shocked expression on their faces. "Do what?" they said in unison.

Harry laughed, "Never mind- Ron's out doing prefecty-type stuff and Hermione's with him, remember she's head girl now. And don't call her bookworm! So I'm all alone as you can see."

"No more! We have some new products that we'd _love_ for you to try out, in fact we have all of them right here" Fred – or possibly George - pulled out some small bags from his pockets and dumped them into Harry's lap, "we can keep you occupied for the entire train ride!"

Harry fervently hoped Ron would come back soon.

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Ginny suddenly jumped away, racing towards the compartment door, opening it with a crash, and sprinting away down the corridor. Neville gasped at the abrupt disappearance, and Ron whirled round hoping to catch her as she ran from the room.

"Ginny!" he yelled after her.

Hermione took control quickly, "Ron, I'll stay with Neville and try to hide him, you go after her, and don't lose her! There's no telling what she'll do!"

Ron nodded and dashed from the door, his robes billowing out from behind him and snapping in a sharp flick of cloth as he ran round the corner, disappearing from sight. Hermione held out her hand to Neville impatiently, and he grabbed it, letting her pull him up.

"Come on, once she thinks it's safe she'll come back after you, we've got to find a place to hide you."

Neville nodded in anxious agreement and followed her out of the compartment, almost running to catch up with her fast nervous strides. Leaving the mysterious plant behind.

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**A/N:** OK, I know I said this would be longer but would you believe I spent most of the time working out the plot to this thing! Not an ending, but still, actual planning! Me! I know, I was shocked too when I found I'd thought up a plot. It's going to be quite a long confusing one, so bear with me. We'll get through this together! And by together I mean I need encouragement here - reviews are j'adored, and they will remind me to update - so it's all in your interests really.

This is Squibakou signing out.

**P.S.** This story is so far un-bataed, anyone want to beta? I'll leave the old chapters with their mistakes, but my next ones I feel might need beta. I haven't written them yet, however, so you don't have to set aside time to do it anytime soon. Thanks folks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Ramblings: **Hello, I'm kind of getting into this now- it's actually got a plan!!! Yay! I am sucky at planning; I just tend to write down the first thing that comes into my head. So anyway, here's the next chapter, enjoy!

**P.S. **Would you believe that, although the plot contains Death Eaters and danger etc., Voldie himself won't make an appearance? Just thought I'd tell ya. Like a teaser.

**Disclaimer: **My lawyer came and informed me that if I don't shut up I'll be sued to within an inch of my life. Nice.

Everybody say HI to my wonderful beta **horntail07**! Now wave. Do a little dance on one foot- go on, she deserves it! Thaaaat's right, dance for her, minions.

xxxx

**Mind: The Gap.**

**Chapter four.**

"Come on, we have no idea where she went, we have to find somewhere to put you. Fast!"

Neville breathed heavily, one thing he'd learned; Hermione sure could run in those heels. He nodded, but knew she hadn't seen him, as she was already several metres ahead and scanning the area for a suitable place to hide.

"In here!" she yelled suddenly and grabbed at his arm, dragging him into a dank-looking room with a mop in it. A store cupboard.

He looked around sceptically, _I hope I don't have to stay in here for very long_, he thought. Hermione was talking again so Neville reverted his attention back to her voice.

"-and don't move or make a sound or anything, understand? I'll stand watch outside just in case." She opened the door to leave, but then turned around again with a flip of her bushy hair. "Do you have any idea why she's like this? And more importantly, do you know any way to cure her?"

Neville broke his previous silence, "I- I'm sorry, the flower…I don't know what it was, if I could study it maybe…"

They both realised at the same time that something was missing.

Hermione winced and asked the question, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Where is it?"

Neville could only stare helplessly at his empty hands before looking up at her apologetically.

"I think it's-"

"-back in the compartment. Great. Okay, this isn't a complete disaster; we just need to calmly evaluate the situation. You have to stay here and hide. I'll go back and get it before anyone else does."

"But**…**"

Hermione held up a hand, "I'd really rather not think about what will happen if it isn't there."

She made to leave again, but Neville clutched at the sleeve of her robe, suddenly afraid.

"What if she finds me? I can't fight a girl! Let me come with you, please? Don't leave me alone."

_Gah!_ thought Hermione, _I have no time for this. I have to get that plant!_ "Fine, come on then, but be quiet and stay behind me."

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"QUACK! Why do I – QUACK! – keep - QUACK! – ing?" Harry clapped his hand over his mouth again, his whole body bouncing with the force of the involuntary sounds being kept in.

Fred and George frowned.

"We don't know-"

"I'm sure those were the Barking Buttons-"

"Not the Duckish Delight."

Harry only glared in response, then let out a particularly loud and embarrassing QUACK! He expected the twins to mock his misery, but all they did was sit cross-legged on the cushioned bench in front of him, frowning, quills in one hand and clipboards in the other. They dipped their quills into the inkbottle between them and scratched away at the parchment, taking notes, as if Harry were some kind of strange exhibit, which was what he was beginning to feel like.

Only when their note-taking was finished did they provide the suffering Golden Boy with some relief. He downed the purple potion they handed to him and cautiously brought it away from his lips, still expecting to be quacking like a duck. Wouldn't that be just great? First day back and he'd already managed to humiliate himself. Thankfully, the antidote seemed to work, and he gratefully handed it back to the twins, who were already opening a packet of what looked like tiny little sandals or flip-flops in a variety of colours. They picked out two, a left one and a right one.

"What size are your feet?" one of them- George, no, Fred- asked.

"About the same size as Ron," Harry guessed, "I don't have to eat these, do I?"

They looked at him incredulously, the shadows of moving branches from outside the train flickering across their faces in patterned chaos, "Don't be silly-"

"You put them-"

"On your feet."

They enlarged the gaudy shoes carefully and gave them to Harry. He slipped them on and did up the straps, all the while wondering why he'd agreed to this madness.

"Now Harry, don't put you feet on the ground until we say so, 'kay?"

He nodded apprehensively.

"Ready…" They held their clipboards tightly, quills hovering mere millimetres off the crisp parchment, "set…" Harry eased his feet downwards. "Go!" His feet hit the ground. There was a soft boom and a cloud of red-orange smoke descended on the three. When the smoke lifted and they had cleared it from their lungs with much coughing and spluttering it was to find Harry sitting on the soft blue carpet, his feet in the air, pedalling nothingness like a comical road-runner. At this sight the twins finally lost their professionalism, dissolving into fits of giggly laughter, only encouraged by Harry's indignant expression.

When they had at last calmed down and silence interrupted only by small snickers prevailed, Harry spoke.

"Was that supposed to happen?"

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Ron ran down the length of the train, puffing and panting with exertion like a dog in a heat wave. His arms switched from being tucked tightly into his sides so he was as aerodynamic as possible, to flailing, outstretched, desperately clinging to railings or walls, trying to get back his balance and breath.

_I didn't know she could run so fast_, he thought as he peered around yet another empty carriage. He sighed, and began methodically searching through the compartments, hoping Ginny was nearby and not causing havoc throughout the train. He stopped, suddenly realising what could happen if he didn't find her. What if she was captured by the Slytherins? Hexed? What if, in her bewildered frenzy, she jumped right off the train itself?

He slammed open the door of the first compartment.

A group of studious-looking Ravenclaw sixth years gazed intently at the intruder over the fan of cards each was holding. Ron stood in the doorway, red-faced and breathing heavily, his robes clinging damply to his back and sides.

"Yes?"

He rubbed the back of his neck; the sixth years glanced incredulously at the action, one of them raising a questioning eyebrow. He quickly snatched his hand away.

"Have you seen my sister? She's…um…lost, and I need to find her. She has red hair, like mine," he pointed, "and brown eyes, and, err, freckles, and-"

"No," was the interrupting reply.

"Oh! Um, sorry for dist-"

The two nearest him waved him away, turning back to their game, their faces all the while set in an emotionless mask.

"I'll…I'll just leave then…"

Once out of the compartment and back in the corridor he leaned against the moving wall of the train, frowning at his sudden shyness around the Ravenclaw group. Standing straight, he adjusted his robe and proceeded authoritatively to the next compartment to knock primly on the door.

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A knock was heard outside the compartment door.It slid open, sticking slightly on the carpeted ground.

"Ah, Severus, glad you could join us. Lemon drop?"

"No thank you, I'm cutting down," replied the Potions Master.

"Shame."

The door was pushed shut, and Severus Snape stood in the small room full of teachers, which was becoming increasingly crowded as the hours progressed. Dumbledore seemingly also noticed this problem, and with a flick of his wand hand the compartment seemed much larger, like the inside of the Weasley car, or a certain trunk that doesn't bear mentioning. The various professors settled in their seats, sighing and shuffling to give each other more room. Once they were all comfortable, Snape, still standing, foreboding in his black robes, spoke.

"As I'm sure you are aware, Headmaster, my godson has been given a mission, a somewhat dangerous mission, and I would like it over and done with as fast as possible, with as little trouble. Unfortunately, there is a problem."

Professor McGonagall straightened in shock, her eyes widening. "Albus! You did not mention this! Why, the thought that You-Know-Who would use the boy at such an early age is worrying enough, but a dangerous mission? What possessed you to allow this?"

Madame Hooch shushed the transfiguration teacher, "Severus, what is the mission, and what is the problem?"

Professor Snape looked at the Headmaster quizzically, silently asking permission. Dumbledore steepled his hands, thinking, eyes closed.

"The young master Malfoy, Severus' godson, has been ordered by the Dark Lord to find and capture or kill a renegade Death Eater, who has been an anonymous informant for the order for some time. We have never known his, or her, identity, and neither has Voldemort," controlled winces whispered through the gathering at the name. "Until now."

"Yes Albus, but there will surely be some trouble over the identity of this informant?" enquired Severus.

The Headmaster nodded, "I'm counting on it."

The other teachers of Hogwarts were beginning to feel out of the loop, thrown by the guarded words, inside secrets and as always, Dumbledore's riddle-like way of speaking. Severus carried on regardless.

"I have managed to gauge the rough whereabouts of this 'spy' or whatever he is. They are in Scotland, nearby, but moving, so I cannot pinpoint their exact location."

"Is this why we are on the train with the students?" piped up Professor Flitwick.

Almost at the same time Professor McGonagall and Madame Hooch yelled, "What Is Going ON!?"

Dumbledore popped another lemon drop into his mouth, and twinkled his blue eyes slightly at the accusing stares.

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**Author's Ramblings 2:** Dun dun dun!!! Anyway, review and all that, and I'll give you whatever you want like a magic review-whore genie. (Sprinkles magic dust) Stay tuned!

This is Squibakou signing out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Ramblings: **Pure laziness, that's my excuse. Shut up. At least this chapter's kind of long. Ish. Also, do any of you watch/read Naruto? If so, you'll recognise some characters in this bit. Ahaha.

**Disclaimer: **Meanies.

**Hello horntail07! Thank you for the wonderful and rainbow-like betaing! **

xxxx

**Mind: The Gap.**

**Chapter five.**

Harry felt like he'd been torn apart and put back together; he felt like he'd been put through a strainer and stirred into an ice cold cup of tea with one sugar, he felt like he'd been eaten, spat out, and eaten again. In short, he felt awful.

"Thanks buddy!" said Fred, slamming him on the back with the flat of his hand. "You really helped us out, we were in a right pickle with those fake noses but with your help I'm sure we can work it out!"

Harry could only nod weakly at his tormentors, inside his head he was screaming bloody murder, but the twins' cheery faces stopped him from hexing them. Just.

George picked up the various pieces of rubber and plastic and wobbly things that had ended up all around the small compartment, balanced them on the two clipboards, and then, waving infuriatingly, they finally left. Pity they hadn't done anything about the smell of rotten eggs and burnt Vilene though.

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"See! All it takes is a little concentration!" declared Daring Darla as she stood on the ground, or rather hovered, micromillimetres from the surface, "you've just got to be careful not to fall through is all!"

Sir Nicholas seemed vaguely interested but, as always, got distracted when his world tipped sideways momentarily.

"Damn stupid thing!" his hands flailed and patted at his gory stump.

Lord Sylvester looked up briefly, but decided this was a bad idea and went back to his ghostly book.

Darla, noticing her lack of audience, sighed and floated so she was a couple of inches off the ground. _Spend all your death living in a school; you'd think they'd like learning, _she thought. Noticing the Ravenclaw ghost she glided over.

"How can you stand reading that same book over and over?" she enquired, "You've been reading it for the last three centuries!"

Lord Sylvester shrugged, "How can you get excited about floating? _You've _been doing that for at least _four hundred years."_

Meanwhile, Nearly Headless Nick had discovered something. Something you could only see at a vantage point only people with broken necks could achieve. So he could see it quite comfortably. His eyes widened, but he clamped his mouth shut and adjusted his head in an upright position. He began flapping his hands and darting his eyes towards the low corner shelf, under which sat a set of crumpled robes. In which, sat a sleeping man.

The Bloody Baron paid him no attention, but when he floated right up into his face and waved like a madman, he decided now was the time to take action, if only to stop this ridiculousness.

And that is how they found the stowaway.

And that is how they found the spy.

And that is how they found Lucius Malfoy.

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Harry couldn't breathe, the mixture of odours stung his nose, the pink tinged smoke stung his eyes, and he could swear one of the remaining humbugs had stung him on the bottom. He had to escape!

The door burst open and he was in the corridor, finally, freedom! But now his compartment was uninhabitable and all the others were full. And he'd left his book behind.

"There's no way I'm going back in there," he said to himself.

With that, he set off down the corridor, heading towards the back, until he found the large iron door that led to the baggage compartment. He turned the heavy handle, wishing he hadn't left his wand in his jacket pocket and opened the door with a loud creak.

"Get out from under there you traitorous wretch!" ordered the Bloody Baron authoritatively.

The door opened and Harry stepped in.

Four ghosts and one groggy, confused man turned simultaneously.

"What?"

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Ron was on his fifth compartment and so far, nothing, not a sausage, nada, zip. Not that he let that get him down. He knocked sharply on door number five. It was worth a try.

The door slid open moments later, and he went through his ritual explanation, letting his mind wander. The compartment was sparse and neat, the bags tucked in rows on the shelves above red velvet seats. There were only two other people in the small room, not including the one at the door, one boy and one girl sitting on opposites sides of the coach. They looked to be about eleven or twelve; first or second years then.

"…So have you seen her?" he finished.

"Maybe," replied the boy who had opened the door, he scratched his spiky blond hair and stuck out his tongue slightly in an effort to think. Ron took a moment to notice the lurid orange jumpsuit he was wearing before the boy twisted round, revealing a white spiral on his back.

"Have you guys seen her?" he asked the others. The other boy just shrugged and said nothing, his only other movement being to swipe away a stray strand of dark hair that had flopped in front of his eyes. Ron's eyes travelled to the girl in hope. She put her finger to the side of her face and tapped her cheek in thought. She was wearing a red dress and had strawberry pink hair. _Finally, _thought Ron, _someone with hair worse than mine._

"Nope! Sorry!" she proclaimed garishly.

The door slid shut easily, not sticking as they were prone to do, as if the blond, blue-eyed boy was well used to such a design. Ron just mimicked the dark-haired boy and walked off down the corridor in an increasingly desperate search for his bespelled sibling.

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The ghosts were eying the man suspiciously, and even Harry had the common sense to stand a good few paces back.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" questioned the Duchess.

"He's a Death Eater! Let me at him, let me at him!"

"Calm down, Nicholas. He's going nowhere," soothed Lord Sylvester as the Bloody Baron, feeling fairly undignified, tried to hold the outraged spectre back.

"Malfoy Senior? What are you doing here?" said Harry holding the blonde's confiscated wand in a steady hand. So far, the bedraggled man was yet to say anything, all he did was stand and stare, shocked, the expression on his face surprisingly frightened. His hair and clothes were a mess; the long strands cut short and jagged, his robes torn and muddy. He still wore his expensive boots, but the toes were scuffed, when he lifted his foot, Harry could see a hole in the sole. The man himself looked like he'd been through hell and back, his eyes bloodshot, grey rimmed, and cheeks sallow with hunger, his lips pursed thin, split at the edges where dry skin tore.

"Mister Malfoy?"

He glanced warily at the gathering, weighing his options. Finally he spoke.

"I'm not here to kill you."

Nearly Headless Nick nearly had a fit, "Damned right you're not! As if you even could! Slimy Snake, let me at him!"

Darla shushed the hysterical ghost with a motherly pat on the head. This, unfortunately, caused said appendage to rock to the side and fall over the rim of his neck and stop short, hanging by that remaining strand of muscle and tissue that so aggravated the Gryffindor ghost.

"Whoops! Sorry dear," gasped Daring Darla, righting the indignant wrong. Harry looked over at Lucius again, as his attention had been distracted by the ghostly antics. To his surprise and great interest, he found the man smiling tiredly, not even trying to hide his amusement, as Harry was sure he would have done not a few months ago.

Lucius noticed his new attention and quickly frowned, then gave up and relaxed.

"I'm not a Death Eater anymore, you know. I was, before, but I'm not now, not for a while. Dumbledore probably knows all about it, I wouldn't put it past him."

"But how do I know you're not lying? I need proof, there's no way I can trust you just because you say so," Harry said.

"I know," said the elder Malfoy, holding up his hands, "you must tell no-one of this, but I can prove to you that I am not what I seem."

Harry's interest peaked at this, "I promise, I promise I won't tell anyone unless I absolutely have to."

Lucius seemed satisfied with this, if not entirely happy- still, he knew that was the best he was going to get. "I've been sending anonymous tips to the Order of the Phoenix for the past two or three months. I'm a spy. For your side."

Harry was taken aback, but ever distrustful of a man who had tried to kill his best friend's little sister, and for years had been one of his many tormentors, not to mention the Death Eater thing, he had to ask again.

"I would be very glad if that were true, but please understand, you could just be saying that to get me to trust you - there's still no proof."

"Yeah! You tell him Harry! Show us you're telling the truth, you dirty liar- ack! Baron! Not so tight!" Sir Nicholas twisted uncomfortably in the Bloody Baron's restraining grip.

"Alright, I understand. I can tell you some of the information I leaked. Do you know about the Aberdeen killings?"

Harry nodded. A few weeks previously five teenagers had been found dead in an alley, no one but those of the wizarding world knew the cause of their deaths. It had been all over the front page of the Daily Prophet for weeks.

"Well, there was one survivor, a boy."

Harry also knew of this. The boy was from a wealthy family and it would have been disastrous if he had died. If the muggles had become suspicious they may have discovered many things that the ministry, and the Order members, definitely wanted to keep under wraps. He was getting curious though, only the Order of the Phoenix knew about the lucky escapee. They'd saved him after all.

"I found out about the plan to kill this boy," continued Malfoy, "and informed the Order as soon as I could. As it was, I was still too late to save the others, but the boy was retrieved safely. I was later put under _Crucio _by Voldemort himself for letting the boy escape."

This news left Harry with two options: he could believe him and take him to Dumbledore where he would be kept safe, or he could not believe him and take him to Dumbledore where he would be imprisoned by the ministry and probably executed. Not for the first time, a man's life hung on which decision he made.

"I'll trust you."

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"Hurry up, we don't have much time!"

Neville followed the bushy-haired girl down the empty corridor, wheezing slightly. They were on the hunt for the lost plant, well, forgotten plant, but Neville felt nervous all the same. His passion for botany did not excuse the fact that around any door a crazed teenage 100-pound something redhead could be lurking, ready to pounce.

Soon enough though, they reached his compartment, only to find it devoid of any plant life. Hermione slumped against the side of the doorframe and put her hand to her head.

"What're we going to do now?" asked Neville.

She glanced at him and sighed, flopping her hands to her sides. "I guess we'll just have to go back and hide," she said.

Neville nodded in agreement reluctantly, and back they went, back to the broom cupboard.

What fun.

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"Well…um…we looked all over- but, erm, we couldn't find him….um." 

The young Malfoy sighed into his hands, _he was on the train, damn it! But where?_

"Are you, and let me make this clear, sure you've checked absolutely _everywhere?"_

The two large teenagers looked thoughtful, which was unusual in itself. Slowly they both nodded, although the one called Goyle started to shake his head at first, but a glance at his companion was all he needed to make him switch his answer quickly in agreement.

Draco looked at both of them in disgust, "and have you checked _all _the compartments?"

Another nod, this time unopposed.

"What about the baggage compartment?"

Both goons looked at each other confused.

"It's the one with all the bags in it! At the end of the train?! Tell me you've looked there!"

Synchronised head shaking was his only reply. He didn't know whether to be angry or happy. Either way, he was sure now where his target was, even though he still did not know his identity. Draco smirked at the thought, leaning backing his seat: his first real mission - to kill the traitor.

xxxx

**Author's Ramblings 2: **Why hello again, fancy seeing you here! While you're around you might as well click that little purple button to your left- that's right, just over there- and write down your opinion, as all humans like to do. Thanks!

This is Squibakou signing out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Ramblings: **If you find this fic confusing, here's a summary so far, just tell me when you need another one: Everyone is on the Hogwarts Express. Draco is on a mission from Lord Voldemort to capture a traitor (Lucius Malfoy) who has been leaking information to the Order of the Phoenix, but he doesn't know who it is. Snape and Dumbledore do however. Harry and the ghosts have discovered Lucius in the baggage compartment and have had the situation explained to them. In the meantime, Ron is searching for his sister who is under a spell brought about by Neville's plant, which means she's kind of crazy and lusting after Neville. Neville and Hermione are hiding in a broom cupboard again after discovering the plant has disappeared. Hope that helped.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, his friends, Hogwarts express, or anyone/anything associated with him. They belong to J. K. Rowling, and are her property; I'm merely borrowing them for a short time.

Omigosh! A coherent Disclaimer::dances:: I've never done one of them before!!!!!! Aren't you proud????? Sure you are, stay smooth duckies.

**Triple thanks to horntail07 for spectacular betaing throughout, give her a hug for surviving exam land!**

xxxx

**Mind: The Gap.**

**Chapter 6.**

Harry handed the ex-Death Eater his wand back, to the protests of a certain Gryffindor ghost.

"But no funny business," warned Daring Darla, watching the transaction carefully. The elder Malfoy nodded his agreement.

"I'm not going to take you to Dumbledore," said Harry as he let go of his end of the wand.

"Why?It's likely that he already knows what is going on." Lucius said.** "** I've never been fond of the man, but I've also never known him to prosecute an innocent unjustly."

A snort of disbelief was heard at the spectral end of the baggage cart. Lucius turned to glare at the offending noise, "I'm not as innocent as _some people, _but neither am I wholly guilty. Even I know that I will be spending some time confined in a cell for previous actions, but I am reformed. Just don't push me."

Harry held up a hand at the bickering and continued, "the teacher's compartment is all the way on the other side of the train, someone will see you. No. We need to hide you and get some help first, then we'll decide what to do after that. I assume you're being chased? Why are you using this train as a hiding place?"

"That sounds like a good idea, you may be smarter than I thought, although, that in itself isn't hard. And yes, I was fairly high in the ranks; I expect the Dark Lord's minions are scouring the country for me, which brings me to why I'm on a train to Scotland. Further more, I've heard a lot about your school, seems to me that Hogwarts is the safest place around right now- where better to hide from Death Eaters than under Dumbledore's thumb? Not to mention yourself."

"Come on then," said Harry. He opened the heavy door and peeked around, looked down the currently empty corridor, sections of which were moving very slowly as the train progressed on its route to the wizarding school. A bird flew by outside the windows, moving faster than any bird should as it rode the trains air currents.

"We're coming too, I'll have you know!" announced Nearly Headless Nick, who seemed to be doing a lot of the talking lately.

Harry just shrugged, "As long as you keep quiet, and don't go floating through the wall, you might end up outside, and you're not as good at flying as that bird." The Duchess was about to protest at this, but opted not to for times sake. Shedecided that she could complain later.

The unusual party made their way down the train in eerie silence, and were about a quarter of the way down before they found an empty compartment. It was much like the others, but still had some bags in it. There were some small leaves and a petal on the carpet.

"Looks alright for now, I think, maybe they went to see some friends? Anyway, we don't need to stay here for long," said Harry, ushering them in. "You guys look after him while I go get some people who can help, I'm counting on you Sir Nicholas."

The ghosts saluted, well, three of them did, the Bloody Baron just nodded his head politely, not happy about taking orders from a Gryffindor, but consenting to help an ex-Slytherin. Harry carefully left the small room after checking to see no one was around and slid the door shut behind him, leaving Lucius Malfoy with the ghosts.

"Care for a game of I Spy?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two large Slytherins made their slow, hulking way to the end of the train.

'_Go and find him! Find him and bring him to me, make sure no one sees, is that clear?'_

They were on a mission of their own, and they were determined not to fail their master. It took them a good five or ten minutes before they reached the baggage compartment, by which time both were getting slightly nervous, what if he wasn't there? What if they couldn't take him on? What would Draco do to them then?

The iron door swung open to reveal a baggage compartment.

It was empty.

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"Look, I don't know! Bag? Baron? Blood?"

"Nope!"

"Brrrrrwindow?"

"That's not a word."

"Yes it is."

"No, I don't think it is. I think you're trying to make 'window' start with 'B' because you can't think of anything."

Daring Darla adjusted her curls in an effort to stay dignified whilst being backed into a corner.

"Fine then. Bo-"

The door slid open, sticking as ever, in the carpet. The ghosts tensed.

"Password?!" shrieked Nearly Headless Nick, several octaves higher than normal.

"What password?" asked Harry, walking in followed by two identical Weasley brothers. There was a collective sigh of relief. Or there would have been if ghosts could sigh.

Harry sat down opposite Malfoy senior flanked by the twins. "I've explained everything to them, and they think they might be able to help you. On one condition though- you're not to pull any tricks, right?"

The twins narrowed their eyes at the platinum-haired man in scruffy robes. The man in question inclined his head at both of them submissively. Satisfied, they relaxed and sat down next to Harry.

"We have a new product-"

"-Just finished it last week, we did-"

"It failed it's first test, but we modified some things, tweaked it a bit- we're sure it'll work fine now."

George rummaged inside a horribly familiar miniature bag and drew out a love heart- shaped locket with a gold embossed cupid on a brass surface at the front. The chain looked delicate, but in the wizarding world this meant nothing. There was a hinge on the bottom tip of the heart and a clasp on each of the two bumps at the top. The Weasley handed it to Lucius, or rather, dropped it into his hand from a good distance and sat back.

"That there," Fred pointed at the piece of jewellery sitting comfortably in Lucius' hand, "is the 'goody two shoes' locket, trademark."

"You undo them clasps, right, and just twist it round like this," he demonstrated in the air, "then inside there are two little pear drops- it's a muggle sweet- that fit together in a heart. You take the left one now, and when you want to change back you just pop the other one in your mouth and Bob's your uncle!"

"And what, exactly, am I changing into?" asked Lucius suspiciously, staring incredulously at the locket. He could swear that cupid had winked at him.

The twins grinned, and in synchronisation sang:

"A drop for you and a drop for me,  
And I will learn what it is to be you,  
And you will learn what it is to be me,  
And we will learn what it is to be  
The other,  
And we will wear the other's shoes,  
And live the other's life,  
For a while,  
To learn  
The goodness of another's love."

"…And that means?"

Harry, who was becoming increasingly aware of the time, spoke up.

"It doesn't matter! Just eat the damn thing; we don't know when these other guys are coming back. What if they catch us?"

"Yeah!" said one of the twins, still sour about the lack of performers' appreciation, "Just eat it!" The locket was snatched, opened and a sweet pastel drop was rammed down the blond's unsuspecting throat before anyone could blink. Lucius himself looked quite shocked at this turn of events and swallowed in reflex, much to the twins' delight.

He stiffened.

Slowly, a breeze began to blow, only around him it seemed, making his clothes ripple and his hair rise and whip about his suddenly much too pale face. It picked up, getting faster and faster, his hair began flying more violently around his head in a full-blown gale, a halo of chaos. The air buzzed with magic, singing in the ears of the students. The ghosts huddled together, trying to remember solidity as hard as they could, so as not to be carried right out of the closed window. Then, just as suddenly as the wind had picked up, it died down. A few leaves floated gently to the ground.

Harry peeked between his flickering eyelashes at the fuzzy shape before him; he opened them wider, then wider still in shock.

"Neville?!"

The one addressed as Neville looked up.

"That's Mister Malfoy to you, young man," he said. Then glared angrily at the two redheads who were laughing their little red heads off. "What's so funny?"

"Ahhahahaaa, em, ha, oh…one minute…" Fred sniggered, but seemed to achieve some level of control. "It's just…shut up George! Well, it's supposed to turn you into your, yes I _know _George, um, your-"

"-True love!" gasped George, before breaking down in fits of laughter again.

"Yeah," Fred grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, "thing is, last time we tried, it turned into Neville too…so your true love probably isn't-"

"Longbottom! Oh! I think I- aha- burst a gut! Oh! Hahaaahaaa…"

Harry, in the meantime, was having a difficult time trying not to laugh, but realising this was a reaction out of his control, decided it was a good time to leave. Standing up quickly and trying not to let his mouth twitch he opened the door and walked out, saying to an oblivious crowd, "I'm just going to go find Hermione and Ron okay?"

The door shut.

"George!" Fred smacked him upside the head, "as I recall, _you _were the one who thought you were in love with Neville for an entire day!"

The two redheads left, still bickering and laughing loudly, and once again, the door slid shut.

"Alright then, I Spy with My little Eye something beginning with, erm, 'S'!"

"Shut up, stupid spectre."

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**Author's Ramblings 2: **This one's a little shorter than the last one, but don't worry! I have it all planned out, and the next chappie's gonna be a big 'un! Although I have to say, that transformation bit dragged on a bit… Have fun reviewing!

This is Squibakou signing out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Ramblings: **Hello and welcome to chapter 7, which I am shockingly writing before I've even posted chapter 5! I may be ill, ah wellski, enjoy. Ski. By the way, I'm from Scotland, so the spelling is British, not American, as HP was originally intended. Oh! And I made up Crabbe and Goyle's middle names, and I have also just seen 'The Prestige' so that's where the stuff with Ron comes from (first bit), just as a bit of inspiration. Great movie, kinda freaky and sad though. I recommend it.

**P.S. **It has been pointed out to me that if Hermione is Head Girl they all must be in seventh year, and so the twins would no longer be at school. So, in an effort to put plastic sheeting on this gaping plot hole, I propose to you that the twins have sneaked aboard to sell their questionable products to innocent young children _or _they are there, like the teachers, to mysteriously supervise people. Pick your favourite, it doesn't really matter.

**Disclaimer: **I'm getting them for Christmas. I quite like the two ghosts I got with my own pocket money.

**Yay for horntail07 who rocks the proverbial sock and chews through my leather-like 5:30 am writing like a foot with teeth. Where am I going with this? Honestly, I think I've lost it…probably in a large shoe...  
**

xxxx

**Mind: The Gap.**

**Chapter 7.**

"Hey, does anyone know where that young Gryffindor went?" asked Lord Sylvester.

"Oh for Gods sake! It's not that hard, woman!"

"Flowerpot, flubberworm, fishnet-"

"You're talking a load of rubbish, do you see any of those things here?"

"-I say, has anyone seen the Potter boy?" Lord Sylvester said a little louder, trying valiantly to interrupt.

"Well I think you're making it up!"

"So you give up then?"

The duchess blew herself up to her full height (about 5'2", plus the few inches of floating space), puffing out her chest. "Neva! Fingers, frock-"

"Where is Harry Potter?!" Lord Sylvester practically screamed. There ensued the confused silence of the slightly indignant, and the just plain confused. The ghosts glanced around the compartment; apart from a stunned silent ex-Death Eater turned teenage boy and themselves, the place was empty.

"Where did he go? Did anyone see?" asked Nearly Headless Nick, who felt himself responsible for the boy.

He was met with a chorus of sadly shaking heads; The Bloody Baron's face set grimly.

"Well," said Darla, adjusting her skirts as she straightened and turned to the door, "we'd best go find him then." She marched in a lady-like way through the closed door. Then she poked her spectral head through the solid smoked glass pane that was the centrepiece of the door a few moments later. "Come on then!"

Lucius stared mutely at their retreating and slightly see-through backs. He narrowed his eyes, _stupid spell! Why, for Merlin's sake, did they turn me into Neville?! And now why did they render me unable to speak and leave without me? The ghosts of Hogwarts are truly dim-witted…_

"Maybe he went back in there? We've checked everywhere else."

Lord Sylvester peered through the sturdy iron door, a smoky hand at his brow. "I see… people, two of them… they look too large to be Harry though…wait," he patted at his dusty old jacket, stuffing frilled sleeves into his pockets, and at last he found an aged leather case. He removed a set of small round glasses from it and breathed on them, sending a shower of ghostly dust into the air, "If I'm not mistaken… that's a Slytherin uniform they're wearing… my they're big lads-"

"Let me see," said the Bloody Baron.

He peered in. "Right, those two are our guest's son's friends- or rather lackeys. Vincent Burswort Crabbe and Gregory Warrington Goyle."

"But what are they doing here? Shouldn't they be in their own compartment?"

"I don't know, and yes, certainly they should, I will be having a word with them when we reach the castle. However, now I think we should be looking for our young Gryffindor, yes? Before he has one of his famous 'adventures'?"

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The walls of the train swayed softly from side to side, outside, the windows were spattered with the insubstantial specks of drizzled rain that seemed almost a permanent fixture in dreary England. Ron rested his head against the cold glass and stared outside at the purple bushes and happily speeding countryside. Pin drops of rain blurred his vision in places, like tears.

_Where can she be? How do you hide on a train where there is nowhere to go? What if she's jumped off? Ginny! Oh, where are you?_

A door whooshed open, landing with a heavy click.

"You okay, mate?" asked the young Hufflepuff boy. Ron turned around, only to meet himself.

"Haha! Got you with that one!" laughed the boy, snapping his thumb and middle finger, making the clone disappear. The boy was missing his last two fingers. Before the replica vanished with a pop, Ron noticed the beginnings of a very alarmed and disturbingly terrified expression on his face. He shivered.

"I've been practicing that one for ages," grinned the boy, shoving on a pair of black leather gloves. "Come in, come in… let me see," he tapped his chin, "Weasley? Rob – no – Ron."

Ron looked astounded. The boy giggled and ran his good hand through his short, dark hair. "It's a knack- not a spell though, so don't go trying to copy it! And I'm not telling how I do it either, a magician never reveals his secrets."

"Huh? What's a magician?"

The boy bowed and straightened, holding a top hat and cane in his hand where they had never been before. "I am a Master of Illusions! The greatest you have ever seen!"

He placed the hat at a jaunty angle on his head and saluted with the cane, twirling it in his maimed fingers with skill and accuracy. Then he removed the hat, freeing, to Ron's astonishment, a beautiful white dove.

"Thank you! Thank you! And now for my next trick!" said the boy, spinning his cane slowly. Before Ron's eyes the hat and cane disappeared on the upward rotation, as if the cane had opened a magical portal into another dimension and vanished. The boy reached up to Ron's still ear and twisted his fingers in a deceptively slow manner that Ron could only see out of the corner of his eye. He pulled back with a red rubber ball in his two fingers. Laughing, he bounced the ball on the worn carpet, once, twice, three times. Then he threw it in the air, higher, it seemed than the ball could possibly go in an enclosed train. Ron looked up, and time slowed. Suddenly, the boy was behind Ron, and Ron could feel his breath on his warm skin, cold.

"Go now. Your sister is not here, but hurry, hurry little swallow, don't get caught in the cage," he whispered. Ron blinked as his eyes blurred, like rain drops, like tears. Before he collapsed, in the tilting, confused world, he heard light, child-like laughter, and glimpsed, just as his eyes closed, another boy, with glasses and sandy hair, holding out his hand, two fingers missing, and catching the ball as it fell.

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Lucius rotated the unfamiliar jaw as he felt the power of speech return to him at last. Now, he was disguised, against his will admittedly, but disguised all the same, and alone. God knew where that blasted Gryffindor had gone, probably gotten lost or something, and those blundering spectres weren't coming any time soon. So, he was alone. And bored.

He stood up on too short legs that were much more wobbly than was entirely necessary and proceeded at a stately pace out the door. The corridor was empty as far as he could tell, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway, he thought, what's unusual about Longbottom walking down the train? Nothing. He walked.

In a compartment just beyond the one Malfoy had walked out of, two large Slytherins gaped at each other as they heard, in a low disgruntled muttering, "…but that has to be the only benefit of this disguise, why _Longbottom? _Anyone, well almost anyone, I would have preferred to this demeaning form. Ooh, if only the Dark Lord could see me now…"

To find nothing at all in the baggage compartment and then suddenly _this?_ The Slytherins smiled, Draco would be pleased indeed.

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"OK guys, I couldn't find Ron or Hermione, so we'll just have to hope he doesn't try anythi- where is everybody?" he asked thin air. He stood in the doorway of the now empty compartment, all but leaves and a stray petal or two on the ground, and looked around.

"Oh bugger."

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"We're lost."

"No, no, we've been walking in a straight line this whole time, we can't be lost."

"But we are."

"We are not, look, those blue curtains look familiar to me."

"That's because we passed them five minutes ago, we are _lost."_

"How- oh never mind, come on, we'll find him soon enough."

The four ghosts floated along in silence for a few more minutes, partially invisible, like a moving cloud, leaving behind only a slight patch of cold air hanging in the corridor. The walls of the train swayed in their well-remembered rhythm, and the blue-carpeted floor rocked gently underfoot. Faded red curtains, bar the odd blue set, framed large windows, outside of which rolled the countryside, grass and trees and purple heather. A group of cows or horses or sheep would, at irregular intervals, whiz past. The sun was getting low, casting the fields in an easy grey glow; it looked cold outside.

"I spy with my-"

Daring Darla pinned the Gryffindor ghost with a stare that could prove dangerous around dry wood and newspaper. "Wai," she said in a heavily put on English accent, "shall _not _be haiving anai of that, naiw will wai?"

Nearly Headless Nick stayed silent and nodded, carefully.

"That's what I thought," she said, her voice returning to its usual lilted drawl.

"I- I say, is that Granger? What's she doing outside a broom cupboard?" said Lord Sylvester, pushing up his small round spectacles, which he had forgotten to take off. "I always thought she should be in my house, you know, such a smart girl…" He looked around, only to find the others had already floated off to meet her.

"Hermione! So nice to see you, you'll be pulling in the points this year I hope," said Nearly Headless Nick, tipping his head politely.

"Sir Nicholas? Baron, Duchess?" She looked up to where Lord Sylvester stood, a little away from the group, "Lord? What are you all doing on the train?"

Profound silence. It's a fallback for many.

"Just…well…yes…um…quite…" Sir Nicholas rubbed his hands together, rattling a few raggedly remaining chains, "well, what are _you_ doing, young lady? Shouldn't you be in your compartment?

"Yes, but you see sir, well, Neville's been having a bit of trouble."

"Longbottom? He's here?"

"Yes, in the cupboard behind me, he's been hiding."

"What's he hiding for, we got him a disguise and everything- well, open it up, we'll get the rascal to the headmaster."

Hermione looked confused, "What? No, I've been guarding him, you see there was this plant-"

The door flew open as the Bloody Baron stared at it, revealing a scared and dusty Neville to the world. "Whu- what's going on, did you get Ginny?"

"Rrrrright!" The Duchess took charge like a bull at a red flag, "We told you to stay in that compartment mister, what are you playing at? What if someone discovered you and you got arrested, or worse, killed?! Luci- I mean, Neville, come out here right now, we are going to the headmaster, and _where_ is Harry?"

Neville froze, "Arrested, _killed?_ Harry? Hermione?!"

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Ron was not a lucky person, he knew. Between the red, hair, the temper and the humiliatingly paralysing fear of the eight-legged, and the fact that he'd just woken up in an unfamiliar part of the train, he knew. But how hard could it be for an ordinary guy to find one girl in what was essentially a really long room? Apparently harder than people credited. He knocked on another door, hoping to all that was magic that it wasn't full of weirdoes again.

Laaaaaaaaa, sang the door as it opened by itself. Small furry creatures flew out, twittering and playing tag in the air. Inside, there was a meadow of unnaturally green grass, and perfect trees, cut into the shapes of bunnies and cats and mice and unicorns and-

"Bugger this for a laugh," said Ron and slammed the door shut. The small furry creatures stopped playing tag and looked at him incredulously, and one pink one turned with a 'pop' into a beautiful maiden, with golden locks that shimmered down her back with waterfall grace. Her skin was like that of a porcelain doll, smooth and flawless, her eyes striking and crystal blue in this ocean of creaminess. Her lips were set in a perfect pout, pink and inviting. She wore a long shimmering, light blue dress that showed off her supermodel curves tastefully, and pooled around her delicate ankles like liquid silver.

She turned into a hideous goblin, with warty green skin, a forehead like a sledgehammer, and the body of a, well, you can imagine. She pounced on Ron, the remaining furry creatures turning into various weapons on the way. Ron whipped out his wand faster than you could say 'haahaa, so _that's_ what all Mary Sues are like on the inside', and stunned her, which for some reason made her explode into a thousand second class stamps that popped themselves when they hit the ground.

Ron put his wand away and walked down the corridor, trying very hard not to think about, well, anything really. It was for the best.

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Lucius wouldn't have dared admit to it, but he felt that, maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't have left the compartment. Not only was he, well might be, just possibly, not really, a bit, lost- but he was sure he was being followed.

Not that he knew it, but in his nervous state he looked much more like Neville than even Neville. The fear radiated off him in waves, understandably, as he was likely to be one of the following, if he wasn't careful: arrested, given the KISS, tortured, killed, or, worst of all, thought to be the real Longbottom and have to spend the next year pretending to flunk school. He didn't like his options, and was now regretting greatly his decision to stowaway on what proved to be the craziest train this side of the tracks. And someone was following him.

There was a creak of old floorboards under worn carpet. Invisible feet pitter-pattered across the train, and no matter where he turned and twisted, Lucius could not find his disconcerting pursuer.

There was silence for a few moments, and the absence of sound only proved to make him more nervous than before. And who knew, when he caught the slight huffs of breath nearer, nearer, that you could get even more nervous when the sound returned?

Lucius quickened his pace, and when he thought he heard the sound fading behind, he darted into an empty compartment and shoved the door shut, stopping just short of slamming it, so as to make as little noise as possible. Sighing with relief he sagged and slid down the door, eyes closed. After a while, he opened them.

A curious-faced red head girl peered into his eyes, much too close for comfort. In fact, she seemed to be crouching on top of him, pinning him down. Her head tilted to one side in what would be an endearing manner if Lucius hadn't been in such a state of shock. And then she grinned, and he caught a glimpse of shining teeth and glowing eyes before she threw herself at him, knocking him to the floor.

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**Author's Ramblings part the second: **Hope you enjoyed it, I know, the Ron stuff is getting a bit random, but it's fun to write, so you can't stop me! (waves stick) Reviewing is a fun form of writing too (insert smiley face that fanfiction won't allow to come up)

This is Squibakou signing out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Ramblings: **Bonjour! And welcome to another exciting episode of random-stuff-written-as-a-means-of-ignoring-homework! Hope you like it. Um, the teacher's compartment is about to get VERY full, so please remember, it WAS ENLARGED TO FIT EVERYONE COMFORTABLY EARLIER, AND CONTINUES TO ENLARGE ITSELF TO FIT THE INCREASING AMOUNT OF PEOPLE IN IT. IMAGINE A REALLY QUITE LARGE HALL OR SOMETHING LINED WITH CUSHIONED BENCHES, 'KAY? ON WE GO…

**Disclaimer:** Say hello to Denial! Don't be too loud though, he's quite shy…

**Super yay for horntail07 beta-sama!!!!!!**

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**Mind: The Gap.**

**Chapter 8.**

"What were you thinking, hmm? Did you think you were _clever?"_ scolded the angry Hufflepuff ghost in a loud whisper. Neville stood stock still, eyes darting with slight panic and confusion, mouth opening and closing in an amusing goldfish impression. Hermione wasn't much better. The ghosts surrounded them, their faces set in disapproval, except the Baron's, who looked positively furious that an ex-Slytherin should disobey his express orders.

Daring Darla huffed at the silent response and shoved Neville forward with a ghostly hand. To him, there was no pressure as such, but as he stumbled forward he realised that he'd been pushed with sheer force and will of mind, a usually unused ghostly trick, except by poltergeists, and it was this that broke his stunned reverie.

"Aah! What are you doing? What have I done?! Hermione!"

Hermione, in turn, stepped forward, "I don't know what's going on, and why you ghosts are on this train, but I suspect it's something to do with why the teachers are on the train too- and, and if it's about that plant we really don't know what happened, I mean Ginny-"

"Don't trouble yourself dear, you couldn't have known," the Duchess threw over her retreating shoulder, still pushing the helpless Neville down the corridor with her mysterious spectral powers.

Hermione started. "Wait! Wait! Um, I'll come with you!"

The procession proceeded along the train, heading towards the teachers' compartment, where, hopefully, all would be revealed.

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"I must say, Headmaster, this spell is really quite useful, an adaptation of the enlargement spell I assume?" said Professor Flitwick, admiring the spacious compartment with twinkling eyes.

The aged man nodded, smiling beneath his beard, "yes, I discovered it – hmm, was it really 27 years ago? – it's quite an interesting story actually, you see there was this-"

A light and timid knock was heard at the door, it slid open, the lock clicking as the catch was passed.

"-this means that the ostrich effect spectrums the drumming motion in a gangrenous flowing bucket of- oh! Neville, Hermione, it's only you, only the other teachers mentioned these two fellows- never mind, come in, come in." Dumbledore beckoned them in, and his eyes only widened a little as the entourage of ghosts followed. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

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Ron was if anything, a little desperate, and a lot freaked out, if that made sense. He ticked off the compartments he'd been to: the freaky Ravenclaw one, then about five other before…before…ah, the weird Japanese kids with crazy hair, and that 'magician' kid, Ron shuddered, and then there was that whole supermodel/goblin affair that really, _really _didn't need to be relived, thank you very much. It had been, if anything, an interesting journey, however, he sobered, not a very fruitful one- oh where could Ginny be? He felt she was so close now, if only one more door away.

He knocked on yet another compartment door, hoping against hope, that it would be his last. No-one answered, and with a sigh, he went to move on, only to pause as he heard a mysterious and repetitive rhythm of clacking, broken and disjointed, as if it were a lurching march of very small tin soldiers. Well, anything's possible. He opened the door.

A girl sat there, maybe a fourth or fifth year, not in her uniform yet, but dressed in ordinary muggle clothes, although she seemed to rather favour red, ribbons and impractical earrings. Her hair was long, straight and brown, and she had it pinned behind her ears, although bits of outgrown fringe fell in front of her blue eyes. She stared grimly at a glowing screen on what looked like a sideways metal book of sorts. Ron thought, a konpayuter? Conpoota? Or was it the other one- a lapdog? No…that wasn't right…lapshirt? Comlapter? He decided he couldn't care less.

The mysterious clacking sound came from her fingers, which stabbed at the buttons on the horizontal half of the…thing with a furious intensity. She didn't look up when he took a few steps forward, and even leaned forward towards the screen a bit more as he closed the gap between the two, the speed of her finger-clacking increasing rapidly. She seemed in her own rapturous world, her face a picture of concentration, her eyes staring unblinking into the harsh white screen.

Ron reached her and leaned over her shoulder, he read the screen. It said: Ron reached her and leaned over her shoulder, he read the screen. It said: Ron reached her and leaned over her shoulder, he read the screen. It said: Ron reached her and leaned over her shoulder, he read the screen. It said: Ron reached her and leaned over her shoulder, he read the screen. It said:-

He stopped reading and ran.

It said: He stopped reading and ran.

The girl grinned, and tapped out a line of 'x's.

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"Well, I must say, this is a bit unorthodox- Hermione, I thought you knew better than to disturb teachers (who might be having an important discussion) unless it's something extremely urgent. Can't it wait?"

Dumbledore waved a hand, "Now Minnie, I'm sure these people have an excellent explanation for coming, don't you children? Have a seat."

Hermione nodded gratefully and sat down next to Professor Flitwick, who shuffled to the side to make room for her. Neville sat next to her, still shaking, both wore expressions of confusion and nervousness, a glance upwards at the still standing (well, floating) stern-faced ghosts did nothing to quench their fears.

"Actually sir, we were rather hoping you could explain some things to us- incidentally, why is the staff on the train? And the ghosts- and what's Neville done? He's been with me-"

"Now, now, Miss Granger," said Nearly Headless Nick, "I understand if you are confused, you have every right to be, but little do you know, that boy you are _protecting _is none other than Lucius Malfoy!"

Hermione and Neville looked taken aback, and both started protesting at once.

"What? No I'm not-"

"Neville's been with me all day-"

The teachers joined in.

"_Impossible!_ This boy doesn't even _look _like the fellow!" said Professor Flitwick, flapping his short arms in his direction.

"Lucius Malfoy! I should think not, shame on you ghosts of Hogwarts- such uncalled for-"

"_-Dangerous_ accusations!"

Dumbledore took another sherbet lemon from the plate in front of him and lodged it firmly in his cheek, calmly staring at the strange and noisy gathering. He leaned forward, white beard almost touching the floor, eyes twinkling in that twinkly way of his.

"I'm afraid there's been a bit of a, hmm, misunderstanding here. Neville, my dear boy, you have nothing to fear from us- I think you and I both know you are most definitely _not_ Mr Malfoy, the ghosts are simply mistaking you for someone _disguised _as you, I assume?" he asked, knowing full well he was right (all-seeing as ever).

He leaned back into the soft furnishings, the group of students, staff and ghosts staring intently at him- finally, an explanation. But the Headmaster only smiled in the silence and moved his lemon drop from one cheek to the other lazily, stretching the pause of expectation to bursting point as he formed his next words carefully in his mind.

"Lucius Malfoy…is on Hogwarts Express."

Hermione stood up, jumped up really, eyes darting, hair frizzing and ruffled, like a startled cat. "He's _here?_ Where? Why?! Shouldn't we catch him? Oh no, the _students_- what if he…oh, I can't think of it, a Death Eater! On the train, we- _oh Harry! _And where's Ron? And Ginny! What are we going to do professor?!"

"Calm down dear, it is little known, between only a few select members of the Order- and only recently I might add, he has been anonymous until now- that Lucius Malfoy has defected and become a spy for the Order, for the good of wizardkind."

The girl sat down, deflated, but not completely defeated. "How do you _know, _I mean professor, he's got no reason to do such a thing, he's Vol- You-Know-Who's right hand man! Why would he give up that power, everything he's ever believed in? I don't think I could believe it."

"One simple answer Miss Granger: Love."

"What?"

"Love. Over the years of the Dark Lord's _absence _he's, well, gotten a bit soft I suppose. Over a decade- a lot of time to reflect, and during that time, Lucius Malfoy's son has grown- into a fine young man I might add, despite his poor behaviour at times. Mr Malfoy worshipped, loved his master, but not with the love, the choking grasp of that tricky heart, that he has for his son. He knew the life his son would have to live if he joined the Dark side. The horrible experiences Lucius himself has had, torture of the soul you might say, it has aged him inside, well beyond his years; he is too far-gone now, he knows that, but his son is as yet unscarred, pure and free from such heavy burdens. Malfoy knows only too well what awaits him, even with the tips, the spying, the change of heart, he has done too much to expect anything less than a lifetime sentence in Azkaban, but he is willing- this is what convinced me, I might add, I am no fool- to _sacrifice _all that, everything he his, _himself,_ to save his son. Love is the strongest bond there is, that there will ever be."

Neville looked thoughtful, staring intently at his clasped hands. "But why is he on this train? And why did the ghosts think I was him? Mightn't he be lying?"

Dumbledore sighed, not impatiently. "I trust him, I am not one to trust lightly, and I am not so easily duped as some might think. His reasons strike true, and just as I trust Severus, I trust him."

"But that's just it sir, for years we've not trusted Snape-"

"_Professor _Snape."

"_- Professor Snape_, we think he's dangerous! But no one ever listens, we have more than enough proof…"

"Miss Granger, I'm sure you are no fool either, and I understand your feelings, but Professor Snape and I have an understanding of each other, and I would trust him with my life. But this is beside the point, I'm afraid we might not have much time, so I shall explain quickly. Lucius Malfoy is stowing aboard the train so that he may reach the relative safety of Hogwarts castle, as, you may have guessed, his treachery has been discovered. He is no danger to the students, I assure you. Unfortunately there have been some, _incidents,_ and Mr Malfoy is currently disguised as you, Mr Longbottom- thanks to these honourable ghosts and a few helpful boys and their exceptional sweet-making skills. I trust he is safe Nicholas?"

The ghost looked uncomfortable, his usually healthy pale pallor turning an unpleasant shade of grey.

"We left him in the compartment…"

Just then the door slid open once more and Severus Snape himself walked in, looking as domineering as ever in his long black cloak and stern expression.

"I have been unable, as yet, to locate Draco Malfoy, Headmaster. However, it has come to my attention, in my searching that there are some strange and altogether disturbing rumours along the train, and I fear an explanation is in order if you would be so kind."

"Aah, I feel perhaps, that you should have come a little earlier," said Dumbledore as Snape observed with some reserved astonishment, the odd array of people and ex-people in the increasingly large compartment who all stared back at him surreptitiously.

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"So we followed him, and we heard him talkin' to himself, right-"

"Get to the point man! Did you get him or not?"

"Not as such…"

"Well? Why not! There are two of you, one of him, and he can't use magic because he apparently left his wand behind when he flitted."

"But we did find someone that _might _be him, but see, he was disguised or somthin' as, um, Longbottom."

Draco Malfoy smirked, "at least you're not totally useless then."

The two large Slytherins grinned at this rare praise and Goyle jumped in with the final juicy detail, the one sure to earn them that nice fat reward of praise and food and privileges for weeks to come.

"He went in the direction of the teacher's compartments, the main one."

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"So Lucius Malfoy is currently on the train, but we do not know where?" said Severus after Dumbledore finished. The Headmaster nodded gravely.

"Well, the Express is not too large, I'm sure we can locate him and put him somewhere safe in no more than an hour's time."

Now the Headmaster shook his head gravely.

"I'm afraid we may not have even that short amount of time."

"Until what?"

There was a bang, a flurry of robes and running people, yells of surprise rent the clogged air and chaos roamed untamed until a deathly silence fell as the compartment's occupants all noticed an entirely unwelcome and wholly scary sight; Crabbe and Goyle were clutching at each of Neville's arms in an iron-like grasp, and Draco Malfoy was holding him steadily and unwavering at wandpoint. Just as the group began to come to terms with this sight, the doorway was once again filled with people, and in spilled unceremoniously, the sweating and panting and clearly terrified figure of…Neville Longbottom. And landing on top of him with a snarl and a pounce was a crazed and bewitched redhead- none other than Ginny Weasley.

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**A/R 2:** Sorry, I lazed out and went to Spain without updating… not that any of you care…anyway, sorry to leave you at a cliffy, can't be helped, and I know better than to promise a fast update, soooooo, I'll try, but I'll hinthint need some HINTHINT encouragement. Pwease?

This is Squibakou signing out.


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